


Under The Burning Lights, It'll Never Be The Same

by vaguesalvation



Category: Super Junior
Genre: M/M, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-16
Updated: 2011-10-16
Packaged: 2017-10-24 17:00:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaguesalvation/pseuds/vaguesalvation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yesung gets it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under The Burning Lights, It'll Never Be The Same

It’s rough and unexpected and Yesung kind of loves it. It’s been too long since he’s felt the warmth of another body so close, even longer since he’s been allowed to reach out and touch, to run his fingers down the back of someone’s thigh and pull them closer. He moans into Sungmin’s mouth and shudders when nails dig into his back.

His head is a pleasant buzz of alcohol and arousal. He doesn’t really know how much he drank, or how they even got back to the dorms. But he’s good at following body language. There’s no mistaking the tug at his clothes or the tongue slipping between his lips, and so he just goes with it. He stumbles down the hall, torn between making it to the bedroom or stopping here, where he can press Sungmin up against the wall and bite at his throat. He’s not usually so controlling, but there’s something about Sungmin that makes him want, makes him ache to draw out breathless moans.

Maybe it’s the fact that they’ve seen so much of each other recently, spent so much time together apart from the others. Maybe it’s the fact that they’ve both grown up a little, given up on relationships that they had wished so much for but were never destined to have.

He thinks he should feel guilty, for taking advantage, for forgetting that neither of them is quite ready to move on. But something has to jostle them back to reality, and if that something just happens to be Yesung’s teeth tugging at Sungmin’s earlobe until Sungmin is a whimpering mess beneath him, well, Yesung can’t say he has a problem with that.

Sungmin’s fingers fumble at his belt, the buckle clinking loudly when he finally gets it undone. He sucks at Sungmin’s neck, the skin warm under his tongue, a gasp sharp in his ear. He wonders if Kyuhyun knows about this particular reaction and smirks to himself when Sungmin’s fingers falter trying to unbutton his jeans.

“J-Jongwoon,” Sungmin whispers, the name slipping from his lips like he’s forgotten he could speak. Yesung takes pride in this, likes that he’s able to reduce Sungmin to near begging, because it’s not an easy feat. Sungmin can be as bitchy as Heechul and as manipulative as Donghae, and together the combination is potent.

He has to pull away a little when they reach the end of the hall, chuckling under his breath at the way Sungmin clings to him, whimpering into his shoulder. Swinging the door open, he leads Sungmin into the bedroom, arm wrapped around Sungmin’s waist to keep them from tripping.

He kicks the door closed again, though he knows no one is going to be home for another few hours. After-parties guarantee solitude if they’re able to get away from the pull of women and soju.

Sungmin fits his mouth to Yesung’s again and Yesung thinks he’s found something much better to occupy his time.

Slipping his hands up under the back of Sungmin’s shirt, he scratches at Sungmin’s skin. Sungmin rips his mouth away and throws his head back, his moan echoing around them. Yesung dips his head to press his lips to the underside of Sungmin’s jaw, sucking hard, wanting to mark, to claim. It’s been so long since he’s called someone his own.

Sungmin is shaking, whole body trembles that have Yesung pulling him closer. Sungmin’s arms wrap around his shoulders, obviously searching for something solid, something stable.

“Fuck, Jongwoon,” Sungmin whispers, his breath catching when Yesung bites at the purpling bruise on his throat. “What the hell are you waiting for?”

The tone is different, the words even more so. They cut into him with their unfamiliarity, so unlike the easy acquiescence that he’s used to. It’s what drives him to dig his nails into Sungmin’s skin just to hear Sungmin moan again, to feel Sungmin shudder against him. He’s never wanted to hurt someone before, having always been afraid of taking things too far.

Sungmin all but demands he take things too far.

He has a moment to worry about his shirt ripping before Sungmin is pulling it up over his head, and before he even has time to realize, Sungmin is on his knees, fingers at Yesung’s zipper again. Yesung inhales sharply, taken back by the sight of Sungmin’s hands, shaking in what can only be nervousness. It’s something he never thought he’d see, Sungmin so clearly uncertain.

His fingers slide into Sungmin’s hair like they belong there and his pants are finally undone. The first touch to his cock is enough to make his eyes roll back. Sungmin’s mouth has always been a point of appeal, full lips that he’s only just imagined wrapped around him. The reality of it is shocking, hot and wet and perfect. He struggles to keep himself from just thrusting in, fucking Sungmin’s mouth like he would one of the girls he could pick up from any dance club this side of Seoul. He tells himself Sungmin deserves better than that.

But then Sungmin looks up at him through the fringe of his side-cut bangs and Yesung can feel his throat relaxing around the head and he almost comes right there, because this is familiar, this is something he’s seen before. This is submission in the form of subtle teasing, eyes that plead, beg, dare him to go ahead, do what he wants.

He clutches at Sungmin’s hair and tugs hard. Sungmin makes a noise in the back of his throat, the vibration pulling a gasp from Yesung’s lips. Difficult as it may be to pull Sungmin off, he does it. Sungmin looks apprehensive and Yesung can see the unasked question in his eyes.

“Will I never be good enough?”

He doesn’t answer, because it isn’t his place to mend wounds, not when he isn’t fully recovered from his own. Instead, he pulls Sungmin to him again, kissing him hard and pulling the back of his shirt up until Sungmin understands and the material is falling to the floor to join the other.

They stumble over each other to get to the bed and Yesung has enough sense about him to know it isn’t his own, but he doesn’t stop tonguing the hollow of Sungmin’s throat. A familiar, ever-arousing scent washes over them, stirred up by their sudden occupation of the bed. Yesung doesn’t even try to ignore it, just breathes in deeply, an oddly fitting combination of shy determination and an eagerness to please. He lets it mix with the scent of Sungmin’s sweat, pressing a knee between Sungmin’s legs until he can’t anymore and Sungmin’s back arches as another moan tears its way from his throat. Yesung silences him with a kiss and slides his fingers under the waistband of Sungmin’s pants. Sungmin lifts his hips to help get them off, and he doesn’t even try to cover himself.

This, too, is different, the complete lack of embarrassment. It makes Yesung’s stomach flip, but not in the way it should. He wonders what could possibly be going through Sungmin’s mind, that he would be nervous one moment and comfortable the next. He thinks he has an idea.

He almost asks, “did he do this to you?” but he doesn’t. He can’t bring himself to ask something he doesn’t really want to know the answer to.

He wants to ask, “did I do the same to him?” but he couldn’t stand to face the truth of it.

He knows by experience that he’ll find a string of condoms and a half-empty tube of lubricant in the drawer in the bedside table; half-empty because that was how it was left the last time it was used. He kisses Sungmin again, all tongue and teeth and a bruising effort to forget as he digs around in the drawer until he finds what he’s looking for.

Sungmin is panting against his mouth when he slides the first finger inside, then another, and Sungmin’s eyes roll back and he whimpers, a pleading noise that shoots down Yesung’s spine like lightning. He’s so hard now he can’t see straight and the warmth of Sungmin around his fingers is maddening. Sungmin’s skin is dotted with sweat and he dips his head to catch one on his tongue.

His resolve is breaking, tearing at the seams and he wants, he needs. Sungmin seems to understand because a second later he’s pressing his lips to Yesung’s ear and whispering, hurried and breathless.

“Fuck me.”

It’s more of a plea than anything he’ll ever hear coming from Sungmin’s lips and it’s more than enough. He holds onto Sungmin’s hips as he thrusts in, quick, hard. He knows it has to hurt but Sungmin gasps like he’s been waiting for far too long.

Yesung gets it; he understands in ways he doesn’t think Sungmin will ever know.

Their rhythm is nearly erratic, Sungmin’s arms pressed into the mattress above his head, his legs wrapped around Yesung’s waist. He isn’t quiet and he isn’t compliant. He bites back when Yesung’s teeth nip at his lips. He presses his heels into the small of Yesung’s back to get Yesung to thrust in harder. He whispers Yesung’s name like it’s the only thing connecting him to reality.

But he smells like the sheets under him and the mixture is enough, just right, so wrong, and Yesung comes hard, deep inside him.


End file.
